Rachel (10 page)

For now, his acceptance was enough.

8

Rachel sat on the same dais Leah had occupied a week earlier, palms sweating and heart beating fast. Laughter and music flowed in and around her, cocooned as she was in the tent of her maidenhood. Jacob’s voice rose above the fray now and then, quieting her with his distant strength. He would come for her soon.

The thought filled her with anticipation, longing. And yet . . . would he compare her to Leah now? Would she be found wanting in some way she couldn’t understand or define?

They were supposed to have come to the tent untouched by another. And she knew he had waited long, saving himself for her alone. But that purity had been stolen from them. And the awful truth of it was they would never get it back.

The thought had stirred her blood to such anger the past week that she could not speak. She would surely lash out somehow, and yet the one she had wanted most to hurt had been secluded in the huppa for those seven days with Jacob. But no more. Leah was nowhere to be seen at this feast. Rachel’s mother had insisted she stay away, and Rachel breathed with relief in knowing her sister could not ruin this night. Not again.

She glanced toward the men’s table, watching through the thin slit she had fashioned in her veil. The maids moved like unseen ghosts among them, refilling silver goblets and replacing empty platters, the scents of the food mingling with the rich spikenard
of the groom. This time when he approached the dais, he would know he was not being duped yet again.

“Is there anything I can get for you, mistress?” Bilhah appeared at her side holding a cup of spiced wine. But Rachel had eaten what little she could before the veils were placed over her head.

“I’m not hungry now. Thank you.” Bilhah nodded and moved past her to the table and deposited the cup in her father’s outstretched hand.

Boasts and praises were offered to Jacob, to her, until at last the drum picked up a different rhythm. The mood of the crowd shifted, and men shouted, “To the huppa!” Ribald comments and laughter followed, heating Rachel’s blood.

She smoothed her hands along her gilded tunic, her heartbeat more erratic now, and tried desperately to remember the advice her mother had given at the last, advice meant to woo Jacob and keep him at her side, as her mother had done with Laban, besting Leah’s mother. It was a game between the two women, and she had always despised their actions.

A swift sense of despair accompanied the thought. She didn’t want a life like her mother’s! But the thoughts faded as she watched Jacob move from the group of men to walk slowly in her direction. Her father jumped up from his seat as if he just now realized it was time and trundled down the short path, catching up with Jacob until they both stood in front of her.

“I must see her to the tent.” Her father puffed, the short walk winding him.

Jacob did not even look in her father’s direction, his gaze taking her in, the dark brows lifting as his eyes met hers. Surprise and a delighted smile curved the corners of his mouth, and she knew her break with tradition, allowing him to see her eyes, was a wise choice.

“Come, come, now. Mustn’t keep the guests waiting.” Her
father’s jovial words barely caught her notice, but she dutifully stood and took the arm he offered her, allowing him to lead her to the huppa where she should have been taken the week before.

Her father lifted the flap and led her into the semidarkened room but backed quickly away as Jacob was already standing in the door waiting. When at last the flap closed them in, Jacob stepped closer but did not touch her, his smile slowly growing wider, his look caressing her.

“It is really you,” he said, relief in his tone, in his smile.

“It is really me.” She waited, anxious, longing.

He stepped closer still, the gap between them filled. His fingers worked the clasps of her veil, catching on the fine threads. “I’m sorry.”

“You won’t hurt the veil, my lord.”

He bent closer and gently undid the clasp this time, freeing her of the veil that enclosed her. He lifted it from her head and tossed it aside. Turning, he sifted both hands through her unbound hair and pulled her to him, his mouth seeking hers. His kisses, no longer the gentle pecks they had stolen in rare private moments during their betrothal, quickly deepened, possessing her until her knees nearly gave way beneath her.

When at last he pulled back, he wasted no time in removing her robe. She lifted trembling fingers to his sash, unable to undo the knot. He placed both hands over hers, silently helping her. Had he done the same for Leah?

The thought of her sister made her breath hitch. She did not want to think about her here! The intrusion brought a rush of anger to the surface and with it the sting of sudden tears.

He seemed not to notice, and she blinked them away. She would not spoil their time together with complaints or let him see her worries.

“You’re trembling,” he said as he led her to the raised bed spread with fine linen sheets waiting for them.

“Am I?” But a shiver passed through her in defiance of her question, betraying her.

He traced a line along her shoulder, then tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “Do not be afraid, Rachel. I have longed for, prayed for this moment from the first sight I had of you. My little shepherdess.” He smiled into her eyes even as his fingers moved over her back, pulling her against him.

“I’m not afraid.” She leaned forward to kiss him. She would prove herself a worthy lover. Better than Leah. The thought bolstered her courage, and she pushed thoughts of Leah from her mind as she gave in to Jacob’s sweet caresses. She was finally his. And he was hers.

At dawn the next morning, Rachel awoke first, her mind slowly clearing. She looked over at Jacob’s dear form and smiled. He loved her! And she was at last his wife for as long as life lasted. She leaned closer, brushed a strand of hair from where it had fallen across his forehead. He stirred, blinked, then looked at her. At his quick sigh, she smiled.

“Rachel.” His voice was music to her ears.

“Jacob.” She leaned close, kissing his nose.

His arms came around her. “I love you, you know.”

“I know.” She laughed as his beard tickled her neck.

“I am sorry things turned out as they did.”

“With Leah, you mean?”

He nodded, pulling back to look at her. “Things won’t change between us. I will love you as I have always loved you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

She nodded, brushing her long fingers through his hair. “I wish . . .” She looked away. “I wanted you to myself.” She kissed him softly, lingering.

He wound his fingers through her hair, breathing softly of
her scent. “And you shall have me to yourself. Things will be as we always planned.”

“You would set Leah aside?” For the faintest moment, she almost hoped.

Jacob stroked her face, his calloused fingers gentle against her cheek. “I will do what I must by her.” He looked beyond her, and she knew the thought pained him. “I cannot ignore her entirely.”

“You can when she carries a child.” She coaxed him to look at her. “Then you will have no need to be with her. While I, on the other hand, can have you to myself even when my belly swells with life.” She kissed him softly again, pleased at the stirring of longing in his eyes. “Me, you will not get rid of so easily, my husband.”

He laughed, wrapping both arms around her. “What a little temptress you are!” He buried his face into her hair, tickling her ear.

She laughed with him, warmed by the joy in his voice. “And don’t you forget it!” She pulled him closer, then laughed again at the sound of his stomach growling. She gently pushed away from him and reached for his hand. “You are hungry, dear husband. Come, let us eat the food my maid brought for us.” She tugged his arm, coaxing him to rise.

He grabbed his robe and donned it, then lifted hers from the floor and held it just out of reach. “I might enjoy watching you eat without this.” She caught the wicked gleam in his eyes and tried to grasp the robe, but he toyed with her, holding it above his head.

She laughed, playing his little game until he snatched her in a warm embrace and slowly lowered his arm. “Hold out your arms.” She did as he asked, and he fitted the sleeves over each one, then tied the belt at her waist. “I still say we would have had more fun the other way.”

She slipped both arms around his waist and held him tightly. “I love you, Jacob ben Isaac.”

He bent to kiss her again, and she reveled in it, wishing with all of her heart that this moment could last forever. His stomach rumbled again, an intruder to their love. But when he lifted his lips from hers, she led him to the table spread with a feast of fruits and nuts and cheeses and fresh goat’s milk. As she fed him dates, he fed her apricots, love’s finest fruit. And she knew she had captured his heart and would keep it, despite her sister.

9

At week’s end Jacob led Rachel from the huppa and stopped at Laban’s house to collect Leah and his wives’ two maids, then led them to the field beyond, where his tent stood waiting for them. The tent, he now realized, was sorely lacking in size for so many women. One glance at Rachel’s face when Leah emerged carrying a bundle of clothing and linens made him pause. He must set them to sewing goat’s hair and expanding the tent without delay. They would kill each other under the same small partition he had meant for Rachel alone.